


Corpse Orchid

by ghoulshua



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Tokyo Ghoul, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Detectives, Dialogue Heavy, Future Fic, Ghouls, Graphic Description of Corpses, Happy Ending, Inspired by Tokyo Ghoul, M/M, Murder, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Violence, believe it or not, yes there is a
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-25
Packaged: 2021-01-02 21:28:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,103
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21168149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghoulshua/pseuds/ghoulshua
Summary: Detective Jeon Wonwoo didn't dream often.But when he did, it was of death.





	Corpse Orchid

If you had been a fly on the wall of his office, observing him ten years ago, there would be a few things you would notice.

One, he did not smoke.

Two, he drank tea. Cream, no sugar.

Three, he would grimace at the photos in front of him.

But now, it was 2034. Time had passed and the once soft, glowing shell that surrounded Detective Jeon Wonwoo had hardened.

A cigarette hung limply from his bottom lip, the trail of smoke narrowly missing his eyes and disappearing before touching the musty and damp ceiling. A coffee — milk, extra sugar, a shot of whiskey, was being held hostage in his shaky right hand.

And he was unmoving.

Like a statue looming over park dwellers.

Ten years on the force, six in homicide, had changed more than just his smoking and drinking habits. His mother was a frequent reminder of this. She would say that she missed his smile, missed the way that he would laugh over their family dinners. She’d touch his face, her eyes lingering on his for far too long. 

She missed her son. He missed him, too. 

He was gaunt— not starving, but close. Pale skin from being locked away in his office and staring at bodies in the morgue, aching to see the sun even for a moment. 

Wonwoo had days off. But they were spent holed up in his apartment, fingers dancing over folders that were meant to be opened on the next working day. His mind didn’t know how to wander to another place. How to let go. He knew too much about the city streets below him.

Knew too much to spend a Saturday night at a bar. Too much to walk after midnight alone. Too much to unlatch his seven locks and find himself in a crowd of strangers. 

And so, he worked. Because it was the only thing left in the world that he knew how to do. 

The photos that laid before him didn’t make his throat close or his heart race like they used to. This was his life. Flashes of dismembered bodies, headless corpses, torn open rib cages and hearts that were never found. Wonwoo knew where they went.

A knock on the door pulled him from the photos and he looked up to see Lee Chan, a rookie detective with the type of outlook on life that was too bright for homicide, poking his head in.

“I’m sorry to bother you,” He always said that, “Captain just got the word of another body found. He wants you to go to the scene.”

Of course.

“Thanks,” was all that Wonwoo offered up, putting his cigarette out in the too full ashtray before standing and grabbing his jacket. He raised his eyebrows as Chan did not move, instead shuffled on his feet uncomfortably.

“Is there something else you needed, Chan?”

“I know you’re very busy, but I was wondering if I could shadow you for this one? I already asked Captain and he said it was alright.”

Wonwoo rolled his shoulders back, mulling over the thought.

He never really liked the idea of having a partner. He was the only one in the precinct without one. He was meticulous and precise, did not enjoy having an extra body to worry about. But Chan, with his still hopeful eyes and lopsided smile, was hard to say no to.

“I suppose that’s fine. You can take notes for me, alright?”

Chan smiled, just as Wonwoo knew he would, and nodded quickly. “That’d be great!” 

Great wasn’t exactly the first word that came to Wonwoo’s mind when he thought of what they might be walking into, but he saved that thought for himself. Wonwoo tucked his wallet, cigarette pack, and badge into his pockets, careful to check his weapons before exiting the stuffy office with Chan in tow. 

Wonwoo didn’t know much about him.

He didn’t know much about any of the people that he shared the close quarters of the precinct with. 

Just as he considered having a partner to be bothersome, he thought of close connections as frivolous and taxing.

Wonwoo only bothered himself in the affairs of the dead. They asked him wordless questions.

Who did this to me?

Why?

How?

Find them. 

“You drive,” he tossed Chan the keys to his car, eyes tired from the work he’d been doing, “I don’t even know where we’re going.” 

Chan looked surprised for a moment before gathering himself and quickly sliding into the driver’s seat. “It’s an apartment complex in Junggu. We got the call from dispatch about ten minutes ago.” 

“Any information on the body?” Wonwoo lit up a cigarette, rolling down the window and letting the cool fall air in. It was his favorite time of year now. Leaves changing colors. Nice breezes.

Lower murder rates. 

Maybe it was ironic. That the season full of scary festivities caused the shadows in the alleys to fall behind. When Wonwoo first started on the force, he assumed the darkness of fall would make them more powerful. But that was never the case. Maybe it was because the citizens were already afraid. Their senses already too heightened. 

Always looking over their shoulders, locking their doors before the sun went down. 

If Wonwoo knew anything about the shadows, he knew they thrived on fear.

“Two street officers were approached by a hysterical woman, saying there was a body in the courtyard. The officer responded to the scene and found a young woman,” Chan paused, clearing his throat, “They think. The officer I spoke to said it was hard to tell.”

“Is this your first field trip?” 

“I’ve seen the photos.” 

That meant yes. The photos never really captured the horror. 

“It’s not the same, Lee. If you need to back out, sit in the car, no one will be mad at you. We’ve all been there.” 

He was treading lightly, not wanting to come across as condescending or rude. Wonwoo wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed of the story Captain would tell of his first case. The way he paled instantly. The way he vomited in the alley. 

The car rolled to a stop at a glaringly bright red light, Chan’s grip on the wheel sturdy, tight. 

“Where did they come from?” 

They weren’t talking about bodies anymore.

“No one really knows,” Wonwoo flicked some ash out the window, watching it blow away with the wind. “They’ve always been here. Things got easier after the United Front. But some of them still prefer to hunt. And those ones, the rogue ones, give us the most trouble.” 

On their way again, Chan let out a small huff, “Didn’t the government spend millions of dollars on creating synthetic meat for them?” 

“They did.” Wonwoo had to laugh.

It was easy to feel bitter. Afraid. Confused.

“So why do they still kill?”

The age old question. One neither of the men in the car would ever come close to answering. Wonwoo had spent years trying. Had sat face to face with them in interrogation rooms. Seen what they’re capable of. 

It was primal need. 

An itch they had to scratch. 

One particularly gruesome killer had once told him, with the blood of a three-year-old still on his teeth and nothing but blackness in his eyes, “You have stopped me. But you will never stop us.” 

Wonwoo believed him. 

“I don’t know.” 

Chan wasn’t satisfied with this answer. Neither was Wonwoo. 

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, Chan’s words festering in Wonwoo’s mind like an open sore. It wasn’t that Wonwoo had given up, he never would. But he knew it was a losing battle. For every killer that was caught, there were fifty more hiding in the shadows. 

Calling them by their given title made something in Wonwoo’s stomach turn. Even so, after all these years. 

Ghouls. 

It was appropriate. It made sense. 

Haunting silhouettes of flesh and organ eating humanoids plunging their fists into the chest cavities of unsuspecting citizens plagued the few restful nights Wonwoo had. He was never able to close his eyes without seeing them. Seeing the carnage they left behind. 

“We’re here.” Chan’s voice cut through the car and Wonwoo looked up, squinting at the red and blue lights that were swirling around. Bystanders littered the area, trying to peak over street cops shoulders, daring to catch a glimpse of gore. 

“Sir, you c—” Wonwoo flashed his badge to the officer, who quickly lowered his eyes, “Right this way, Detective.” 

He wanted to roll his eyes, but held it in. Instead, with Chan on his heels, Wonwoo approached the scene, roped off and surrounded by officers and photographers alike. He was quick to grab a pair of gloves, covering his hands and urging Chan to do the same. 

“Don’t touch anything. Keep your notes brief and easy to recap. Remember what I said,” Wonwoo faced him, a blanket of intensity falling over them. “If you need to leave, I’ll understand.” 

Chan responded wordlessly, just a few simple nods. But Wonwoo noticed the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed, a thick swallow. It was easy to see the way the color was leaving his face at the very stench that wafted through the air. 

Death. 

Wonwoo was used to it by now. It seemed to follow him everywhere he went. To the bar across his apartment complex, the one he went to every night for his two glasses of whiskey, and it earned him nothing but concerned glances and empty seats next to him. 

It lingered in his car, no matter how many times he got it detailed. 

It seeped into his pillows, so every time he rolled over, he remembered the hundreds of lives that had been torn away. 

“Glad they called out Seoul’s finest for this one,” An arm snaked around Wonwoo’s shoulders, all too familiar, “We’re going to need it.” 

He smiled, genuinely, at the man standing next to him.

“Detective Xu, this is Detective Lee. This is his first ghoul case,” Wonwoo sauntered away from the two, approaching the scene, “Go easy on him.” 

Minghao and Chan exchanged pleasantries before following Wonwoo, Minghao holding a handkerchief up to his nose and mouth. Wonwoo didn’t blame him. 

“Hell of a case for your first, Lee. How long have you been on the force?” 

“Three years,” Chan replied, nerves dripping off of every syllable, “I’ve only been in homicide for two months now.” 

Minghao let out a noise Wonwoo would place between pity and a warning sign. “And they put you with Jeon? Jesus, it’s like they want you guys to quit.”

“He asked to come with me,” Wonwoo narrowed his eyes at Minghao, “You’re talking too much. Can we please get to work?” 

“Please, be my guest.” Minghao gestured to the ground, stained red. 

Wonwoo crouched down, eyes scanning the carcass. He had to remind himself that this was a human he was looking at, not an animal. Hardly anything remained of them. Their face was torn off, leaving nothing but muscle and blood clots in its absence. 

The chest cavity was split in half, rib bones sticking out at grotesque angles. It was a black hole, just as the others were. Their legs, the same as their face, were stripped of skin and only bleeding muscle remained. 

What was left of their body was scratched and gored beyond any recognition. Slabs of muscle could be found a few feet from the body, strips of shredded skin littered the blood soaked pavement. 

It was a massacre. A show.

Ghouls weren’t particular about how they ate. 

But this one was. This one liked to leave a scene. Leave a body behind. He would empty their bodies of their organs, rid them of their facial and leg skin, and flee. Stomach full and itch scratched. 

Wonwoo sighed, standing up and shaking his head a few times. 

“What’s the verdict?” Minghao’s muffled speech came from behind the piece of cloth.

Wonwoo looked back to Chan, nodded as a signal, and starting speaking when he saw that notes were ready to be taken, “It seems that your theory proves correct, Detective Xu. We have a serial killer. The torn skin from only the faces and the legs has been consistent, as well as the ingestion of all major organs. It’s not typical of ghouls to leave such dramatics behind.”

“Do you think he’s doing it on purpose?”

“How do you know it’s a man?” Chan chimed in, avoiding looking at the ground and instead, holding his notepad up far too high for it to be natural. 

“Based on profiling records. The FBI has been doing it for years,” Wonwoo snapped a glove off, “We have nine, now ten, bodies exactly like this one. Women serial killers, ghoul or not, are very unlikely. Women don’t kill like this.” 

Chan nodded, going back to his notes and Minghao let his handkerchief down, “What’s he trying to tell us?” 

Wonwoo shuffled backwards, avoiding any of the blood from getting on his shoes, “That he’s stronger than us, that he’s besting us. Ten bodies now and not a single clue from any of them. My guess is that it has nothing to do with his victims and everything to do with us,” Wonwoo took a pause, swallowing the lump that was rapidly expanding in his throat before turning to Minghao, “When you get back to your station, have your records keeper email me a list of all recently convicted or executed ghouls. It could be family. Maybe this is revenge motivated. The scenes are graphic enough to suggest anger.” 

“Got it. Anything else?” 

He looked down at the body, forensics attempting to clean up what remained of them into a body bag. “I heard there was a woman that discovered the body? Has she been questioned?” 

A nod. “She has. She didn’t see or hear anything. Literally just stumbled across the scene.” 

“Pity. Let’s make sure she’s alright before leaving her alone. Tell a patrol to stay at the scene for the rest of the night,” Wonwoo looked back at the crowd, “And get rid of those fucking reporters.” 

Minghao was quick to act, as he always was, wishing them farewell before attending to his new tasks. 

“He seems nice.” Chan softly spoke, tucking his pen into his jacket pocket.

“He’s a good detective. Minghao has been trying to convince me of a serial killer for a few weeks now. I feel foolish that I didn’t listen to him.” 

“Why’s that?”

Wonwoo spared Chan a glance, “Ghouls kill to eat. Technically, all of them are serial killers by pure definition of the phrase. But this is different. They don’t make shows of their murders. They lure victims and keep their bodies, sometimes for weeks, to feed from. This ghoul wants everyone to know what he’s capable of,” A cigarette was wedged between his lips now, “And that’s the most dangerous part.” 

“Have you ever seen anything like this before?” 

Wonwoo was sent crashing through his past on the force. The hundreds of ghouls he’d locked away. The dozens, or more, he’d executed. This was his territory, his city. And someone was trying to tell him that his reigns were loose, he was slipping. 

He exhaled through his nose, the smoke burning on it’s way out, “No.” 

“Yeah,” Chan whispered, “Me either.”

Hours later, with whiskey in his veins and smoke in his lungs, Wonwoo was staring out the window of his apartment. Leaning his forehead against the glass, the smell of the grim reaper still on his skin even after he boiled himself in the shower, his eyes scanned the busy streets below him. 

The killer was out there right now.

Walking among them. Innocent people. Sniffing out his next present to leave Wonwoo.

Forensics identified the body as eighteen-year-old student, Park Jangmi. He didn’t have to make the family call, but he still felt the pain of her weeping parents. He heard it across the vast city. Saw it plastered all over the news. She had been on her way home from a violin lesson. She never got into trouble. She was loved. 

Wonwoo lightly banged his head against the glass once before taking a step back, swinging the dark liquor around in his glass. 

Maybe if he had just listened to Minghao. Been sharper with his evaluations. Worked harder. 

She didn’t deserve that.

No one did. 

Wonwoo downed the rest of his drink before collapsing onto his bed. His mother, he could hear her voice, would be chastising him for smoking in his room. It stuck to everything. 

His mind wandered back to Jangmi. He wondered if she suffered. Obviously, post mortem, she was humiliated. But he hoped the ghoul didn’t make her death something to revel at. That he cracked into her chest first, a quick pain, a free fall into the afterlife.

Wonwoo didn’t want to think about her afraid, calling out for someone to save her. Realizing no one would come. 

He opened his eyes and a little too aggressively put the cigarette out in the crystal ashtray next to his bed. Sleep would be slow to find him tonight. 

He felt it in his bones, his aching muscles. But never in his mind. Wonwoo lifted up his right hand, still shaking. They said it might go away, the pain might ease. The human body worked in mysterious ways. 

They said that seven years ago. 

But still, he shook. He shook until he spilled drinks, dropped utensils, fumbled with pens. 

Seungcheol had told him to lay off the whiskey, it probably didn’t help. He promised he would. But there were so few things in this world that made him feel anything other than … nothing. 

He made a tight fist, his fingernails digging harshly into his palm, before releasing it along with the breath he didn’t even realize he was holding in. 

“I need to sleep.” Wonwoo spoke, hoping that saying it out loud would make it true. Despite his racing mind, he tucked himself into his bed and buried his face in the pillow. 

He fell asleep to the sounds of police sirens on the streets below him and the local news anchor talking about Jangmi, how the police were doing everything in their power to find her killer. He fell asleep with visions of broken bones and blood painting the walls of his mind. Teeth tearing through flesh and the type of manic laughter that you only hear in horror movies. 

Wonwoo didn’t dream often.

But when he did, it was of death.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much to my dearest friend and beta reader [shauna](https://twitter.com/pinkwinwin) for listening to me yell about this for a while now
> 
> this fic is something very near and dear to my heart, i've been working on it for so long and now it's finally seeing the light of day   
goodness
> 
> comments and kudos are always appreciated 
> 
> [my twitter](https://twitter.com/hongshus)


End file.
